Somewhere in this part of the country—­I do not know exactly where —­Israel fought another bloody battle a hundred years later.  Deborah, the prophetess, told Barak to take ten thousand men and sally forth against another King Jabin who had been doing something.  Barak came down from Mount Tabor, twenty or twenty-five miles from here, and gave battle to Jabin’s forces, who were in command of Sisera.  Barak won the fight, and while he was making the victory complete by the usual method of exterminating the remnant of the defeated host, Sisera fled away on foot, and when he was nearly exhausted by fatigue and thirst, one Jael, a woman he seems to have been acquainted with, invited him to come into her tent and rest himself.  The weary soldier acceded readily enough, and Jael put him to bed.  He said he was very thirsty, and asked his generous preserver to get him a cup of water.  She brought him some milk, and he drank of it gratefully and lay down again, to forget in pleasant dreams his lost battle and his humbled pride.  Presently when he was asleep she came softly in with a hammer and drove a hideous tent-pen down through his brain!

“For he was fast asleep and weary.  So he died.”  Such is the touching language of the Bible.  “The Song of Deborah and Barak” praises Jael for the memorable service she had rendered, in an exultant strain: 

     “Blessed above women shall Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite be,
     blessed shall she be above women in the tent.

     “He asked for water, and she gave him milk; she brought forth butter
     in a lordly dish.

     “She put her hand to the nail, and her right hand to the workman’s
     hammer; and with the hammer she smote Sisera, she smote off his head
     when she had pierced and stricken through his temples.

     “At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down:  at her feet he bowed,
     he fell:  where he bowed, there he fell down dead.”

Stirring scenes like these occur in this valley no more.  There is not a solitary village throughout its whole extent—­not for thirty miles in either direction.  There are two or three small clusters of Bedouin tents, but not a single permanent habitation.  One may ride ten miles, hereabouts, and not see ten human beings.

To this region one of the prophecies is applied: 

“I will bring the land into desolation; and your enemies which dwell therein shall be astonished at it.  And I will scatter you among the heathen, and I will draw out a sword after you; and your land shall be desolate and your cities waste.”

No man can stand here by deserted Ain Mellahah and say the prophecy has not been fulfilled.